


Seizure

by lopingloup



Series: Whumptober 2018 [29]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Epilepsy, Gen, Non-Sexual Slavery, Seizures, Slave Trade, Slave auction, Slavery, Slaves, Whump, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 08:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20112229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lopingloup/pseuds/lopingloup
Summary: Working as an underpaid and overworked guard at a slave auction house, Kol can't afford to feel sentimental over slaves he can't save. But one young slave catches his attention and Kol does his best to save just this one.





	Seizure

**Author's Note:**

> hullooooo, more angsty slave!fic because this is me, what were you expecting? >.< This is fairly mild compared to my other stuff, but watch out for, you know, heavy themes.
> 
> Thanks as always to the awesome Imperial_Dragon, whose ever-insightful advice helped me wriggle out of the corner I'd written myself into with this one - I hope you like the ending I came up with in the end!

Kol shifted slightly, his feet aching badly after being stood up all day. The auction market was in constant, shifting motion around him, always loud and crowded and too warm. It was nearly the end of his shift but, despite his tiredness, he still had to concentrate, listening for the slight changes in the rhythm of the place that told him a disturbance was about to flare up. His days were generally monotonous but just occasionally, he had to grab a runaway or panicking slave, or stop two owners from putting each other in hospital over some insult.

He wasn’t thirty yet, but he felt old and tired by the time his shift finally ended. He nodded to his replacement and groaned quietly to himself as he headed down the watch-tower’s metal stairs, weaving through the crowds towards the guards’ breakroom and lockers, taking out his ear piece as he went. He always showered after his shift, the humidity of the hall making his uniform stick to him, and he came out of the showers ten minutes later in civvies, his wet hair dripping into his collar.

After picking up his bag and slamming his locker shut, he headed back out into the mayhem of the 24/7 auction house, which closed only for holidays. Today was unusually busy, not least because it was still early in the season and new slaves, young ones just coming of age, were still being presented. They were always eager, the new slaves, wanting to prove that their training was perfect, and Kol found it hard to look at them, knowing that it would take only a few years and a couple of harsh owners to hollow them out and take the gleam from their eyes.

Kol was almost at the exit when he heard his name being called over the noise of the crowd and he turned to see Solvi gesturing at him in the guards’ sign language, which they were required to know in case their ear piece broke or they needed to be silent. _Incident in top left corner_, Solvi signed as Kol sighed and headed over to him.

“What’ve we got?” Kol asked as he followed Solvi at a jog, pushing through the crowds.

“Young adult male slave with some kind of seizure, medical is on the way but they’re busy right now and we need incident control in the meantime.”

“Got it.”

“Sorry, I know-”

“No worries.” Kol waved away Solvi’s apology. Kol wouldn’t get paid for this but Solvi was a mate and Kol didn’t have anywhere urgent to be.

Kol knew when they were close because the crowd got suddenly denser, with people standing around to stare at whatever was going on.

“Make way!” Solvi yelled. “Move!”

People grudgingly parted to let them by and Kol paused to assess the situation once they got past the spectators.

There was a dark-haired slave on the floor, convulsing violently in sharp twitches. A tall man dressed in a pale grey suit was hovering, rigid as a trip wire, and Kol guessed that this was the slave’s owner.

The slave went abruptly limp a moment later, still twitching slightly but with the worst of it over, and Kol saw Solvi release a breath.

“Show’s over,” Kol said to the watching people, turning his back on the slave and his irate owner. “Off you go, go on.” This wasn’t a serious incident and Kol knew Solvi could have handled it just fine on his own, but protocol was that two guards attend every scene and Kol had been closest.

People began to disperse as Kol and Solvi ordered them away and then medical arrived, and a nurse, dressed in dark green, crouched down by the motionless slave, beginning to check him over.

“Fucking useless,” Kol heard the slave’s owner snap sourly before he shook his head and strode away towards some of his other slaves for sale, who tensed at his approach. Kol pressed his lips together in disapproval, his gaze drawn back to the male on the floor. His eyes were open but he was staring forwards blankly and it took the nurse repeating a question three times before the slave finally responded.

“Thanks for the help,” Solvi said, patting Kol’s shoulder. “You can head home now, put your feet up.”

“Yeah,” Kol said, before he folded his arms over his chest and nodded at the slave. “What’s gonna happen to him now?”

Solvi followed Kol’s gaze and then sighed, pushing his hands into his pockets and not seeming in any rush to hurry back to his watch post. If there was anything pressing, Kol knew Solvi would hear about it through his ear piece.

The nurse was checking the slave over but after a moment he was helped up to seated and the nurse started packing up, apparently deeming him in no immediate danger. The slave looked dejected and through he shifted obediently into kneeling, there was a hopeless slump to his shoulders.

“No idea,” Solvi said. “If he’s lucky…he might get an owner that’ll take the risk. If he’s unlucky,” Solvi shrugged, “then no-one’ll be interested and he’ll go into state mine-work or waste-sorting or something and he won’t last long there.”

“Jesus,” Kol muttered, thinking of the stories he’d read about slaves who ended up as just disposable property within the government’s careless machine. “He looks barely past twenty.”

Solvi looked sideways at him. “Have you got a slave?” he asked curiously. Kol bristled just a little, like he did when anyone asked about his personal life, but he just shook his head. “Well, there’s always the employees’ discount,” Solvi mused. “I used mine up on renting that pretty Southern woman last month, but if you’ve taken a fancy to this one…”

“I don’t need another mouth to feed,” Kol said firmly. It wasn’t like they paid the guards well here, even if the healthcare and dental were pretty decent, and Kol was already sending money to help out his brother. He really didn’t have the cash spare to spend on a slave.

Solvi shrugged. “He’ll be cheap for sure, but there’ll be expensive medical bills eventually, so you’ll probably end up canning him in a few months. But if you want some short-term help-”

“I can’t buy a slave,” Kol interrupted, not entirely sure if he was telling Solvi or himself. “I haven’t got the cash. Wouldn’t have anywhere to put him either.”

“Sure,” Solvi said easily. “Just an idea, since you looked kind of taken with him, that’s all.” Kol nodded in acknowledgement, frowning down at the slave, with his broad shoulders and bowed head.

“Maybe…” he started and trailed off.

Solvi looked at him. “What? You changed your mind?”

Kol glanced at him in tired exasperation. “_No_,” he said. “I can’t afford him. But they keep slaves here, for cleaning and shit like that, right?” Solvi shrugged. “Would management want another one?”

“I don’t know that it’d be any better here-”

“It’d be better than fucking mine work, or labs.” Solvi winced at Kol’s sharp words.

“Alright, yeah,” he conceded. “Would they take him, though, with the-” he gestured vaguely.

The crowd had dissipated and the noise level in the hall dropped marginally, and Kol saw the slave stiffen, making Kol think that he was listening to their conversation.

“I don’t know,” Kol said, still looking at the slave. “Hey,” he said, slightly louder, and stepped towards the slave, who tensed further. “What d’you think? You want me to ask management? Or you rather take your chances?”

The slave was motionless for a long second but didn’t deny that he’d been listening. “I would appreciate that, sir.”

“Me putting a word in for you?” Kol checked.

“Yes sir.”

“Alright then.” He and Solvi shared a look.

“Worth a try,” Solvi said with a shrug. Kol nodded and rubbed his face tiredly.

They turned away by silent assent, pausing at the stairs that led up to the manager’s office. Solvi hovered for a moment more before he said, “Well, thanks for the help. And good luck,” and headed off.

Kol climbed the stairs wearily, his sore legs protesting, and took a breath before he knocked on the manager’s door.

He was called in and stepped inside, closing the door and clasping his hands behind his back. The manager, Alixander, glanced at him apathetically before turning back to his desk, where he was bent, scribbling, over a thick bundle of papers. Personally checking over the most high-profile and expensive sales, Kol guessed.

A moment later, Alixander capped his pen and swivelled his chair around.

“Kol, isn’t it?” he asked, before a yawn overtook him and he held up a hand. “Ah apologies. Long day.”

“Yes sir,” Kol said. He was surprised Alixander knew his name, but then, Kol had worked here for some time.

“What can I do for you?” Alixander asked and then winced. “Please don’t tell me you’re quitting. I’ve had too many resignation notices already this month and the paperwork is a chore I can do without.” Kol blinked. Perhaps, he thought, if Alixander actually paid a decent living wage, he wouldn’t lose so many employees to brighter prospects.

“Eh no, sir,” he said, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“Good good,” Alixander said and smiled. He was a jovial looking man, slightly unkempt in a harmless way, but Kol had seen a certain dead apathy on his face, once, when he’d looked at a slave being beaten bloody and Kol had never forgotten it.

“I was…wondering if you had space for a new slave,” Kol said after a pause where he tried to figure out how to word his request? Offer? Suggestion?

Alixander’s scraggly eyebrows rose. “Slave?” he repeated, bemused. “Have you got one you’re tired of?”

“No sir,” Kol said. “There’s one being auctioned today. Young, fit, obedient.” He stopped, unsure how to proceed.

Alixander frowned. “We tend to opt for older slaves,” he said, sounding slightly irritated. “And I’m surprised that you haven’t noticed that. I run a tight ship here. We don’t have the funds for extravagances.”

Kol had to bite his tongue to stop himself from talking over the manager, but he forced himself to wait until Alixander was finished.

“You’re right, sir,” he said diplomatically. “It’s just that this slave will be going cheap.” Kol cleared his throat. “He’s got…some sort of seizure thing. But he’s still young enough to do more work than an older slave, and he’d be grateful too, and he’d make up his cost pretty quick I reckon.”

Alixander looked at him for a long moment with a gaze Kol couldn’t read. “Do you know this boy?” he questioned abruptly. “You seem surprisingly invested. Unless you have a stake in this that you’re failing to declare.”

Kol was shaking his head before Alixander had finished speaking. “No sir, I’ve never seen him before in my life. I just think it’s a crying shame for such a young guy, and obedient, to be shipped off to the mines just because he gets twitchy. It isn’t personal, sir,” he finished weakly. He saw so many slaves pass through this place that it was distressingly easy to become apathetic to their suffering, but Kol thought he might have a shot at helping this one, and he waited impatiently for Alixander’s answer.

Finally, Alixander shrugged elegantly. “We _are_ short on a cleaning slave,” he said indifferently. “What slot is he in?”

Kol looked up at the office ceiling as he searched his memory. He hadn’t checked the slot’s panel before he left, but he remembered where the slave had been in the auction hall and he had the layout of the alphabetical slots memorised.

“Slot JC,” he said after a moment and Alixander hummed and turned away to flick through his records.

“Twenty-three years old, male, had two previous,” the manager idly read aloud, referring to the slave’s previous owners. He was silent for a short time. “Well,” he said, pulling a hand through his dark hair, “his…condition doesn’t look fatal, only inconvenient and embarrassing.” Kol pressed his lips together. “I suppose he could be put on the night shift…his obedience rating is good.” Kol held his breath.

Alixander finally turned back, taking off his glasses to look at Kol with narrowed eyes. “You are aware that I will fire you with immediate effect if I am told that you have…interfered with a slave.”

It took Kol a moment to realise what Alixander meant but when he did, he blanched. “Fuck no-” he said sharply and then winced. “Sorry, I mean, shit- no. I wouldn’t- do that. No way.”

Alixander looked faintly amused. “Excellent. If his price is one-hundred pounds or lower, you may buy him and the auction house will refund you. Any more than that and it’s out of your pay check, am I clear?”

“Yes sir,” Kol said, relieved, even as he was trying to work out whether a hundred would be enough, or if the slave would go for higher.

“And he will be your responsibility,” Alixander added, startling Kol. “If it happens that he is disobedient, violent, or otherwise entirely unsuitable, I will be displeased and we’ll be having a discussion.”

Kol was silent. He hadn’t realised he might be putting his job on the line for a slave he didn’t know. But it was too late for second thoughts. “I understand.”

Alixander nodded. “Good,” he said, and then smiled. “Of course, if this slave turns out to be a good investment, then a small bonus might find its way to you. I’m not unfair.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kol said, as he was required to, though he seriously doubted that Alixander would bother to follow through on such a promise, even if the slave was an exemplary worker.

Alixander nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

Kol nodded and slipped out, closing the door behind him with a rough exhalation. He allowed himself a second before he headed down the stairs and over towards the auction stage, worried that after all of that, the slave would have already been sold.

But they were only just auctioning a slave from slot BV and the ‘J’ slot slaves wouldn’t come up for an hour or more.

He found a spot with a good view and lowered himself into the creaking wooden seat, reaching out to pick up the tablet attached to the back of the seat in front, which he flicked through idly. He found the slave in the tablet’s database and saw that there was no lower price-limit set for the male, which was lucky, but unusual. Kol frowned down at the slave’s file, shaking his head at the slave’s date of birth. The guy was only twenty-three, as Alixander had said. The slave was six years younger than Kol, and yet the weariness in his eyes had made Kol feel tired. No-one so young should look so exhausted.

Kol also looked over the slave’s medical history, all of which was in such small, dense print that it made Kol’s head hurt to read. Likely the slave’s owner had been so enraged at the slave’s seizure because otherwise the slave might have been sold to someone careless, someone won over by the slave’s low price and who hadn’t taken the time to read all of this dense background information.

It seemed like the seizures were something the slave had had for years. Everything else Kol read seemed to indicate that the slave was non-violent and otherwise healthy and he sighed, hoping that sticking his neck out for this slave wasn’t going to cause him any trouble.

Kol settled back as the slaves came in and out and used his phone to flick on the subdermal implants in his ears, dulling the noise of crowd and replacing it with some of the electro-classical music Kol liked, though he’d listen to pretty much anything. He tensed briefly when a slave on stage kicked up a fuss, before he remembered that he wasn’t on duty and relaxed back into his seat, watching as the guards nearby took care of the disturbance.

When he saw that the ‘J’ slot slaves were starting to be sold, he turned off his music and ran a hand through his now-dry hair. The tablet had a function for bidding on the slaves and Kol eyed it before the slave came on and Kol tracked him across the room. The slave was being led by a guard and dressed in the same beige tunic he’d been wearing earlier.

The electronic auctioneer introduced the slave, listing his basic stats but not touching upon his medical history before the guard holding the slave nudged him to his knees to wait. Kol was close enough to the stage to see that the slave was shaking minutely but he remained silent and pliant. His head was up, as the slaves were ordered to do so that buyers could see their faces, even though they usually kept them bowed.

“Two hundred starting,” the auctioneer’s voice came out of the speakers, slightly too smooth to be human. Kol sighed and slumped down into his chair slightly, more disappointed that he ought to have been. Two-hundred was still very little for a slave, but it was too much, regardless. Kol waited, though, dreading seeing some government official snap up the slave, but there were no tinny rings of buyers submitting a bid.

“Two hundred for the young male,” the auctioneer repeated and Kol saw the slave shiver slightly, before he dropped his head, looking defeated. Kol waited, hope reigniting as he waited to see if the price would be dropped to within his price range. The thought of the slave not being bought at all and ending up in the mines or labs was worse than the prospect of Kol losing him to another owner. Hell, Kol hoped for the slave’s sake that some cushy owner did pick him: the slave would probably get a better life with a personal owner than he would here at the auction house.

“One-fifty for the male. Strong worker, obedient,” the auctioneer said. Kol held himself tense. “One-fifty is a real bargain.”

There was a bored silence and the auctioneer dropped the price again. “One-hundred for the slave,” it said and Kol jabbed the bid button instantly. But there were the rings of other bids and Kol glanced down at the screen, grimacing when he saw who had bid against him; one was a private buyer but the other was government run and Kol knew that if they got hold of the slave, he’d been put to cleaning public toilets, working on the sewers or, worse, sent to the labs.

“One-hundred-and-fifteen,” the auctioneer said and Kol jabbed the button again, wincing. It would come out of his pocket but he’d take that hit if it meant the government didn’t get the slave.

This time his buzzer was the only one in the hall – clearly the other two wanted only the absolute cheapest – and he released a breath of relief as the auctioneer closed the sale and a green banner appeared on Kol’s tablet, congratulating him on his new slave.

Kol slipped out to head to the pick-up desk, arriving slightly before the slave. He was sweating from the tension of it and he understood, now, why he sometimes saw the same people coming back to the auction again and again, because it was something of a rush. Still, Kol had been more nervous than excited and he was glad it was over.

When the slave came over, it was with his head lowered so far down that Kol could see the vulnerable back of his neck, the tendons flexing under his skin. His hair was dark brown and softly curled, only just brushing the skin of his neck. Kol knew that whoever oversaw the auction house slaves would have the slave’s head shaved, since Kol had never seen a slave with more than an inch of hair. Kol supposed it was to make their status clear, as well as being practical.

Kol filled in the necessary paperwork, catching the slave’s sideways glance in his direction. Kol looked back at him, wondering whether the slave was relieved or disappointed at the outcome of the auction, but the slave’s face was hard to read, despite his wide-eyes. The only emotion Kol could make out clearly was nervousness.

Kol finished the paperwork and waved for the slave to follow him, heading for where Kol knew the slaves’ quarters were, though he’d never been inside.

“Thank you, sir,” the slave said softly, walking just behind Kol.

“No worries,” Kol said, before turning to give him a stern look. “But don’t fuck up mate. I’ll get my ass kicked if you do.”

The slave stared at him. “But- do they know-”

“About the seizure thing?” Kol said and the slave nodded. “Yeah they do. I don’t mean fucking up like that,” he clarified, “I mean acting up, being lazy, rebelling, you get me? Don’t do that.”

“I won’t,” he said, his tone solemn. “I swear.”

Kol gave him a nod. “I’ll hold you to that, then.” They reached the door to the slave quarters and Kol read over the sign on the door: _Slaves and slave supervisors only_, and came to a halt to look at the slave. “Guess I’ll see you around then,” he said.

“Yes sir.”

Kol looked him over once more. “You got a name?”

The slave’s head twitched upwards minutely but he didn’t look at Kol. “My last owner called me Atli, sir.”

Kol shrugged. “That’ll do. I’m Kol. See you around, Atli.”

Atli gave a small nod. “Bye, sir,” he said quietly. Kol made himself walk away, but couldn’t stop himself from glancing over his shoulder. Atli was stood motionless, staring after Kol so intently that Kol’s step faltered. Their eyes met for a long, tense moment before Atli abruptly dropped his head and disappeared through the door to the slave quarters. Kol exhaled heavily and left the auction house, but he couldn’t shake the curly-haired slave from his thoughts. He promised himself on his walk home that he’d look out for the guy, if he was able to, but that was all he could do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? What did you think of Kol and Atli?
> 
> This is only ever going to be a one-shot, but I seriously head-canon that Kol saves up for years, hoping to buy Atli, as they become close at the auction house. Maybe Kol gets Atli out of some bad situations, they comfort each other through some tough times, Alti almost gets bought just before Kol has saved up enough and of course kicks up a terrible fuss to make himself seem a bad slave so he won't get bought. All that good angst, before they finally live happily ever after as freed-slave and fond ex-owner, with Atli now taking night classes in law so he can fight for other slaves. Something ridiculously sweet like that ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
